The Damned Demon Novels & Stories

“I am speaking to the queen.” My breath hitched. Damien’s confidence, his complete disregard for the lesser demons, made my pulse quicken. His unwavering stance sent a ripple of tension through the room. A low, guttural chuckle rumbled from the demon’s throat. He stepped forward slightly, his dark eyes narrowing with amusement. “Ah, Damien,” the demon mused. “You’ve always been so bold, haven’t you? Do you even understand what we are capable of? What we can do?”

“Something’s coming. Something worse.” A low rumble shook the ground, and the air grew heavy with the scent of sulfur. From the shadows emerged a massive figure, its form wreathed in flames. It was a creature straight out of a nightmare—a demon, its horns curling like blackened tree roots and its eyes glowing with hellfire. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Fatima said, staring up at the beast. The demon roared, its voice shaking the ground. “You dare trespass in my domain?”

The creature would always watch, tearing away any shred of light. That night. The whole truth had been revealed to his crew. In a blaze of furious elegance as the mists rose about the ship and the souls and forms of those that had never lived made their first appearance. 'And all will be damned...one sacrifice will not sate my appetite!' The demon's roar deafened them. 'I am not easily defeated! Your souls are mine, to twist and weave until the day all time ends. Give me the children and the blood...a thousand...perhaps then I might let you rot in purgatory rather than roast in the hell you create.'

All Alpha Damian could scent was Ana's floral sensual fragrance wrapping around him, a sacred distinct scent that only envelops him whenever he mates with Ana, "How dare you!!" Alpha Damian roared as his teeth bared, his body trembled with fury, his bones cracked and elongated, his growl morped in anger and the ages trees around shook above his growing bulk, as Alpha Damian shifted Into an extraordinary huge silvery monstrous wolf lunging with his sharp lethal claw.

The man fell to the ground, screaming in pain while Ares just rolled his eyes and threw the eyeball on the ground and stomped on it because squatting in front of the man. He grabbed the man by the hair and lifted his head up so they were eye leveled. “I told you I don’t do second chances but you are someone I’ve known for so long so I don’t want to kill you off just like that but if you don’t find a way to get me rid of this demon the next time we meet, I won’t just be taking away your other eye but also your life. Got that?” He pushed the man to the ground as he stood up then turned to Cornelius with a groan.

Wallowing in guilt and shame will only set me back, but the reason the demon got out of hell was because another, more powerful demon was on a death mission. Stop it, I tell myself. This is exactly the type of negativity a demon would want me to fall into. I take a breath and look into the demon’s eyes. “Auferte malum elementa invocabo. Dimittie eam mitte erranti est ultra modum.” Evander’s head flops back and he lets out a yell. Yanking against the restraints, he jerks his head forward and back over and over, until Tabatha drops the bowl.

Asher muttered from where he stood, watching as Kaidën fought with the demons of his past. “We are both damaged, Asher Fishman. Why else would we fit so perfectly?” Kaidën shot back, shaking his head, fingers clawing at the mirrors.

He had the same fever that night and had went to the church to pray. Then what happened? Someone sat on the altar. A tall man with long silver hair and the beautiful but deadly red eyes. “Velon,” Damian called out and the demon who had held his hand smiled widely, widening the corner of his lips. “Correct, again, Damian my puppet. Call my name again.” “Velon, Velon,” Damian whispered as the demon looked at his hand where power brimmed in a bright purple color. Belle who had opened her eyes saw the sketch that was drawn on the parchment. Then she looked at Leon’s face, only to find him frowning grimly.

"Do not test my patience again." He turned and strode away, leaving them to nurse their wounds. He had more pressing matters to attend to. A meeting had been called in the royal chamber, and his presence was required. Entering the grand room, El-Kharis found the other demon royals already assembled. The god of fire, a towering figure with molten eyes and hair like flames, glared at him. His skin was a deep, burnt crimson, and heat radiated from him in waves. Beside him, the earth demon, solid and imposing, watched with a stony expression. His form was like living rock, with veins of precious metals glinting through his granite-like skin. The water demon, fluid and ever-changing, regarded him

Elian pressed closer, spectral hands reaching uselessly, horror rooting him as the chamber dissolved into chaos—clashing steel, demonic roars, the infant's wail cutting through like a knife. It dawned on Damitri then, in that frozen instant, the witch's warnings he'd ignored: the entity he'd summoned wasn't ally or benefactor, but the Devil of the Abyss, binder of souls, weaver of curses that tainted bloodlines forever. The power he'd stolen now poisoned his legacy, birthing a thirst in his sons that the full moon would eternally ignite—a blood hunger that chained the wolf to infernal chains.